The Prodigy and the Outcast
by He Who Writes Monsters
Summary: In a Konoha divided by the rivalry of the Uchiha and Hyuuga clans, Uchiha Itachi requests for the Hokage to consider him as a candidate for the position of Godaime but Sandaime only agrees on one condition: that Itachi train a Genin Team.
1. References

Reference Page for P&O:

Genjutsu:

Genjutsu is the third of the great shinobi disciplines, and just like Taijutsu or Ninjutsu, it is divided into several categories. Genjutsu is different – each Genjutsu is made up of two parts – a cause and an effect.

Cause:

Gen: Standard Illusions require the user to not physically interfere in the Genjutsu, rendering them vulnerable to counter-attack. It is impractical to use on multiple opponents due to the large amount of chakra required to sustain an illusion.

Magen: Demonic Illusions allow the user to integrate themselves into the illusion, instead of being forced to remain stationary to maintain it. They are useful for hit-and-run shinobi, Genjutsu skirmishers. Magen mostly focuses about defeating the enemy through a concerted psychological assault, horrifying and numbing them into a complete mental breakdown, before physically striking the final blow.

Onigen: Heavenly Illusions are subtle, and almost indistinguishable from reality. This is their greatest strength. Unlike regular or Demonic Illusions, people do not realise they are even in an illusion, leaving the user free to dispatch them without them even realising it. However, Onigen are the most chakra-intensive of Genjutsu, and require exceptional chakra control to perform, as well as remaining stationary throughout the Genjutsu. An exception to this is the Kurama clan, who could create Genjutsu of this kind through the medium of paintings.

Effect:

Kanashibari: Kanashibari (Binding) Genjutsu are used to immobilise foes, and take a variety of forms, depending mostly on the personal style of the user and the strength placed into it. The strongest Kanashibari Genjutsu render the target completely immobile, whilst weaker versions can only make limbs heavier without rendering them immobile.

Henge: Henge (Shapeshifting) Illusions work by tricking the senses and mind of their victim to see things that are not there. They are often used in psychological assaults, forcing the target to fight those dear to them, and can also be used to render them terrified. In Onigen, they can trick an opponent into fighting an enemy that does not exist, or believing that a friend is actually an enemy.

Hakai: Hakai (Destruction) Illusions focus on fooling the mind into thinking that the body has sustained serious injuries. It can sever nerves and render limbs and organs useless, whilst doing no physical damage to the body whatsoever.

Ways to Escape Genjutsu:

The standard method to escape a Genjutsu is to use the "Kai" command, and use as much chakra as the Genjutsu itself takes to sustain in order to escape it. For some Magen, pain is enough to escape it, to remind the mind of reality. However, this is inefficient against higher-level Genjutsu. Shutting down and restarting your chakra system is another method against any type of Genjutsu, but leaves the target momentarily defenceless against attacks. A variation on this and the "Kai" technique is to receive a chakra injection from another, who will break you out of the Genjutsu. The more people involved in injecting chakra, the less that has to be spent by each of them. The last technique used to escape Genjutsu is Genjutsu Shō, which reverses the effects of the Genjutsu back onto its caster. However, to use Genjutsu Shō successfully requires an intricate knowledge of the mechanics of the Genjutsu, and a higher amount of force placed into Genjutsu Shō than has been put into the Genjutsu itself.


	2. Chapter 1

The Prodigy and the Outcast:

A/N: Yeah, you guys are probably getting sick of this, but I put The Prodigy and the Outcast through _another_ re-write, and _this_ is the final project, with much larger roles for Itachi and _especially_ Kabuto than were previously planned.

To make it up for you guys, I decided to make a chapter, of 8000 words of entirely new material, instead of last time where I just mashed two chapters together.

Oh, and despite Kishimoto's decision to take Itachi's character development into… an _unexpected_ direction, Itachi in _this_ fanfic will remain as I have always seen him, and will not be manipulating events for the sole purpose of stealing his little brother's eyes. Madara was not Itachi's teacher at any point.

Chapter 1 – Capacity:

The night was silent, or at least, silent of _human_ noise. Cicadas chirped loudly, concealed somewhere in the late summer forest, and nocturnal animals of all kind watched with glinting eyes and alert senses, careful not to make a single mistake, to make sure every footstep was well-placed, lest it be their last. Noiselessly, slinking through the undergrowth, or along thick-limbed boughs, or into the gentle murmur of the Nakano River, the creatures of the night assembled.

Uchiha Itachi was amongst them, a silent, faceless creature, wrapped in shadow as he crouched, apelike in the upper branches of a tree. He was due to leave Konoha in three days time, to investigate into an illegal bounty ring operating in Hi no Kuni. The day before, he had just returned from leading ANBU Cell 13 on the S-Ranked mission codenamed "Sorakage" – an infiltration into the xenophobic Kumogakure no Sato. He was well aware that the other members of his cell: Neko, Karasu, Farukon and Inu would be out, celebrating their recent success. He was also aware that Neko and Karasu, or as they were known without their masks, Uzuki Yuugao and Gekkou Hayate, would spend the night in each other's embrace, knowing all-too-well that it may be the last time they had an opportunity to do so.

Itachi had no time for such… frivolities. He glanced up, at the many-starred sky, and the bare sliver of moon that appeared before him, and wondered idly if there had been another like him, or if there would in the future be someone similar to him, who would do the same.

Graduate from Konoha's Academy at the age of seven, a three-tomoe Sharingan by eight… At the time that most of his age group were perfecting their Bunshins and Henges for the Academy's Final Exam, Itachi was inducted into the dark and bloodstained world of the ANBU, under the tutelage of a disbelieving Morino Ibiki and a more than hesitant Hatake Kakashi. Two years later and he had become the leader of his own cell, commanding people twice his age, but with half of his skill.

And now, by the age of 18, he had just completed his 112th S-Ranked mission. A mere number, but it commanded such respect. Respect, and hatred. There were people far his senior, that were now forced to witness a mere child surpass them, and their life's work, with contemptuous ease. But even their resentment was tribute, of a kind, to his deeds.

Unbelievable. Unimaginable. Unparalleled. He knew this – there were a mere handful of people that had done as much as he had in his short life. And yet, it felt so _hollow_.

Undoubtedly, he had accomplished much – enough so that if he were to die, his name would occupy a place of honour upon Konoha's memorial stone, and the students of the next generation would be exhorted to reach or perhaps even _surpass_ his achievements; told to be the next Uchiha Itachi of Konoha, as he had been told so often to be the next Hatake Kakashi, or in darker circles, outside of the hearing of others, to become the next Uchiha Madara.

However, nobody would remember _him_. They would remember the name "Uchiha Itachi", but not the man that it was attached to. And why should they? He was, after all, the perfect shinobi – so unrecognisable, so unremarkable in appearance, nobody would think to connect the name of the hero, the great Uchiha Itachi, to him. That was what shinobi aspired to, after all – to simultaneously be both famous, and invisible.

Would even his clan remember him? Perhaps Mikoto would – remember the child that had to be cut from her swollen womb, brought into this world baptised in the blood of his mother; and perhaps Fugaku would, remember the child he had moulded to be his successor – raised in a crucible of steel and darkness designed to create either a shinobi without peer, or a broken child; and perhaps Sasuke would remember the elder brother he could never match, the one he both hated and loved but could never forgive, but they alone of his clan, and their memories would fade as they too died, leaving him unknown once again.

The thought disturbed him. It was the goal, the very meaning of a ninja's _existence_ to be unknown, hidden in the shadows. That had been his life – his meaning; the reason he had been born, nurtured raised, to be the greatest of ninja… but it was the goal of a human to ensure a legacy, ensure that they were remembered. No, that could not be correct. None of the inhabitants of Konoha had ever mentioned a desire to leave behind a legacy. They had never had the specific purpose to go out and do something memorable. He alone gave life to that thought.

Unbidden, unwelcome, a conclusion presented itself. Those who are human need not remind themselves of legacies. They act as they please, and create a legacy from that. Did that mean that he was not human? Too absorbed into his Nindo?

A dangerous thought, yet seductive. _I have done what no other man has done… does that make me _more_ than a man?_ Smothered hastily, locked within the iron confines of his mind. Itachi was not vain. He was no Orochimaru, who made more of himself than he truly was, and sought to adjust reality to conform to his ambitions.

A second thought rose soon after, a compromise. _I am not content with being a ninja alone_. Itachi considered this, and dropped a stone into a still pool. At the sound of the _plop_, and the sight of the ripples, the creatures drinking at the pool retreated into the undergrowth.

It made sense, he supposed. Were he content with merely being a shinobi, the ANBU Corps would be sufficient for him. But how was he to ensure his legacy was known forever, so that the men and women of Konoha would, a hundred years from now, hear the name "Uchiha Itachi" and know immediately whom he was? He took a shuriken from a side pouch as he looked again at the sky, and then threw it with a well-practised flick of the wrist into the undergrowth. A muttered curse and then the sound of steel striking steel confirmed his suspicions. Though he let no emotion show itself on his face, Itachi could not help but feel a slight tinge of satisfaction. He would expect nothing less from the designated Vice-Captain of his cell.

"Neko, show yourself." It was testament to her ability that she was able to come so close to him before he could sense her, and draw and deflect his shuriken in a single motion. The ANBU kunoichi emerged from the darkness and shrugged, sheathing her katana before jumping into the same tree as him. Both stood in the same way, legs bent but backs straight, and to a casual passer-by, they may have seemed almost as siblings, until you came close enough to notice that their eyes were different. A shame – Uzuki Yuugao had the skills and mindset desired of the Uchiha clan's finest. Though by sheer misfortune of her birth she could never be more than an associate to Itachi, he still fond her company… tolerable at least, and made no secret of the fact that he preferred her to members of his clan – a slight that his father was forced to bear, for he had placed far too much investment in his eldest son to risk losing him over such an, ultimately, trivial matter as this.

"Itachi-taichou, something on your mind?" she had her head slightly cocked to the side, and had removed her mask, which now hung by her right hip, just next to the kodachi she kept sheathed there in case she felt the need for more than her standard katana.

Itachi gave her a quick glance, then returned his eyes to the night sky.

"Why did you come here, Neko?" If the kunoichi was annoyed with his bluntness, she did not show it, though she was not one to show her emotions that easily. She was a far too subtle creature for that, one of the reasons Itachi tolerated her company. Had it been the foolish Inuzuka that wore the mask formerly belonging to Hatake Kakashi, he would have dismissed them immediately. Yuugao, however, was made of a far more… agreeable nature than others.

"I wanted to ask you a couple of questions, Itachi-taichou." Of course, it had been a source of hilarity to… certain members of the ANBU Corps that their newest recruit shared a name with his mask. Nobody had laughed after he cut three fingers from Morino Ibiki's right hand, and after the big man had made it very clear what he'd do to people that insulted his "new little friend", the taunts had stopped. Ibiki, for all his quirks, had never once complained about the attack, and after having had his fingers surgically re-attached, continued to make quips about his fingers wanting to hide when Itachi entered the same room as him.

"Ask away, Neko." It was getting late. Fugaku would expect him back at the Uchiha compound in an hour, to personally congratulate him on his successful mission, and, most likely, to ask him to ensure that he preserved Uchiha honour on his next mission. Such a troublesome, and oft-trodden cycle.

"Itachi-taichou, We're off duty. You don't need to call me "Neko" right now." She crossed her arms, and Itachi took his eyes off the sky to focus on her.

"Of course. What did you want to ask me, Yuugao-san?" She hesitated, just a flicker of indecision, but it was more than enough for his highly sensitive eyes to catch, and read the message hidden underneath. _She knows she will not enjoy this conversation, but she feels that she must talk with me anyway._

"It's about you, Itachi-taichou. You were… distracted, when we returned to the village. Hayate-kun was worried something had happened to you. _I'm_ worried that something happened, too. You haven't been yourself lately, and Shisui won't tell us anything."

He made a dismissive "Hn" at the mention of Shisui. At least his cousin was loyal. Still, if he had suspected something was wrong, it would be just like him to inform Fugaku, and expect Itachi to thank him later. So intelligent, yet so simple, was Uchiha Shisui.

"There is nothing wrong, Yuugao-san. I will be fully capable of performing in the next mission." She said nothing, but it did not matter. To practised eyes such as his, her face, body posture, general demeanour held an entire conversation, one he did not approve of.

"Your brother is graduating from the academy in three days. Are you going to congratulate him?"

Sasuke… the second brother, always the second. He had not yet even awakened his Sharingan, despite his constant attempts to surpass him. What a waste…

"No." He did not elaborate further, but instead noted his vice-captain pursing her lips slightly. No doubt she wanted an explanation, but she knew him well enough to know that asking outright would be pointless.

"I... may not know your brother, Itachi-taichou, but with all due respect, I think he would like you to be there when he graduates." Itachi thought a moment before replying. It was not an unreasonable assumption. Sasuke would most likely wish for him to be there when he graduated, if only to have his brother acknowledge him. Still, it would not do for Yuugao to assume she was correct here. Whilst her presence was tolerable to him, Itachi knew that he would not be capable of standing her should she assume a position as his moral compass. It would be best for both of them for him to nip this in the bud before it blossomed into the weed that strangled their partnership.

"You do not know my brother, Yuugao-san. Do not presume as much." She tsked softly, but said no more, just waited patiently. One rather annoying trait Yuugao possessed was her patience. When she felt like it, she could be _extremely_ patient, at the cost of his own. Eventually, he sighed. "Was there something else, Yuugao?"

"Yes… there was," she said, though slightly hesitantly, and she did not make eye contact. Before she could continue, another appeared, seemingly out of thin air. A decidedly _less_ welcome presence. Itachi closed his eyes as his cousin landed on a slightly lower branch, bearing his finest shit-eating grin.

"Yo, Itachi-kun! Yuugao!" Uchiha Shisui, the man unable to be constrained by his "Farukon" mask, gave a mock salute at his immediate superiors, and grinned widely. The _other_ Uchiha prodigy of this generation, Shisui was a master of Shunshin no Jutsu, implementing it well into his, admittedly effective, hit-and-run style of fighting. However, just as his nickname – Shunshin no Shisui, served well to show his famous fighting style, it also described his personality quite perfectly – inconsistent, impatient, light-headed…

"Shisui-san," Yuugao nodded at the energetic Uchiha, who was wearing his ever-present grin, stretched wide over his face like a scar. "Itachi-taichou and I were talking." Shisui just laughed at that, as he did at almost _every_ remark made, and scratched the back of his head.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, Yuugao, but I sort-of need to have a… private talk with Itachi-kun. Clan business." Yuugao's expression flickered once, and a hand unconsciously fell to the hilt of her sword, before Itachi stirred himself.

"Very well. I will speak with you tomorrow, Yuugao-san." When she failed to leave, just glanced at him, his eyes snapped open, and he fixed her with a Sharingan glare. _"Dismissed."_ Her right hand clenched her sword-hilt, but she just gave a stiff bow, then vanished in a funnel of leaves. Itachi turned to Shisui, who grabbed onto the branch above him and swung up onto it.

"Nice going there, Itachi-kun – There's nobody but you 'can send people scurrying with a single look…" He trailed off as he became the recipient of said look, and then laughed again, more nervously this time.

"What did you want, Shisui?" His patience wore thin far too quickly around Shisui, but the other Uchiha had a unique talent to aggravate him, and used that talent far too often.

"Hehe… Okay, Itachi-kun, it's a couple of messages, that's all – don't shoot the messenger! Fugaku-sama wanted to ask about you helpin' out the clan…" he paused, and looked theatrically to the right and left, before dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Fugaku-sama wants you to make an… _extra_ kill on your mission – there's a man, Hideo Takazuni, who's a rival of another merchant…"

"Tou-san wants me to kill him, so that _his_ supporter can take over his business." How very predictable, but Fugaku was often predictable like that. Itachi would kill this man, this innocent his father had marked for death – if only because he had no reason _not_ to kill him. Shisui pouted at having had the wind taken out of his sails, but recovered swiftly.

"There's one more thing… Mikoto-sama wanted me to tell you that she's arranged for a potential marriage for you – with Yuki-chan, y'know, uncle Takada's daughter? She's not that bad-lookin', and she's supposed to have a pretty good Sharingan…"

"I will refuse her." He had met his cousin Yuki, on a couple of occasions, and she had failed entirely to interest him. Docile, hesitant, she was of middling birth and mediocre talent. Besides which, Itachi had no wish to marry yet.

Did Mikoto believe she was doing him a favour by trying to marry him off? Sometimes, he despaired of his mother as much as he did his father. Fugaku was greedy, arrogant and corrupt, a finger in every pie, believing himself to truly be the most powerful figure in Konoha, whilst he in truth relied on others – the police force, his contacts within the ANBU, and Itachi himself, to actually carry out his schemes of political intrigue. Such a weak man. _Are you not weak for following him? What right does a pawn have to doubt its king?_

The difference was that he was no pawn – a pawn could not simply say "no" and render the king defenceless. If Itachi so wished to, he could collapse the false empire his father believed he had created, with a single word. The thought was tempting.

His mother Mikoto was another annoyance, for entirely different reasons. She was neither greedy nor corrupt, but instead too gentle, too compassionate, too _weak_. She had supposedly been a formidable shinobi once, but no trace of that remained – she spent her days as a civilian would, cooking and cleaning and managing the household, yet she still expected others to give her the respect one would to a shinobi of Jounin rank. The weak should not aspire to greatness, nor the feeble to respect. That was the way of the world – shinobi could be neither weak nor feeble, for they were weapons first and foremost, and a weak weapon benefited nobody.

"Maa, maa, Itachi-kun… You know, Mikoto-sama's tryin' to do you a favour – there aren't many girls left who'd actually consider marrying you – you've done a good job of scarin' them all away." Shisui gave a casual shrug, then paused in mid-motion. "Ah! I _knew_ I forgot something!" he lightly tapped his forehead, the same mischievous smirk adorning his face, and Itachi fixed him with his Sharingan glare.

"What is it?" he said frostily. He was beginning to tire of Shisui's presence already, and he had much to think about.

"Hokage-sama – he wanted to see you, wouldn't tell me what for, of course – I'm just little ol' me – not nearly important enough to hear what Hokage-sama and Itachi-kun's have to… oh?" He cocked his head to the side as Itachi rose from the near statue-like position he had adopted, and leapt from the tree to the ground.

The younger Uchiha had deactivated his Sharingan, the only change visible in his face. It was not something he did lightly, but there were… protocols to be respected, and it would not do to appear before the Hokage with these eyes. _What does he want?_ Most likely there was an addition to their mission – a secret order he alone had been trusted with; this would not be the first time, after all.

Gliding above the rooftops of Konoha, Itachi saw the patrols of Uchiha Military Police making their rounds, and without exception, they all reacted the same to his passing: a curt nod, followed by them moving on quickly to allow him to pass. At the Hokage's Tower, he was met by guards of a different sort, a trio of masked ANBU, but they too stood aside for him. It was not trust – the shinobi knew him, but he did not know them, and trust had to work both ways. He placed a hand on the shoulder of one wearing the mask of a tiger.

"Name." He spoke softly, but the shinobi still flinched. He cleared his throat hurriedly, and straightened before speaking in clipped tones.

"_Tora_, Itachi-taichou."

"I asked for your _name_. Not your mask." He could not see his face, not with the mask on, but the rest of the shinobi's body betrayed his discomfort.

"A-ah… sorry, Itachi-taichou… O-only with Hokage-sama present am I… a-ano… allowed to say. It's… it's _tradition_… Sorry…" Itachi did not need the aid of a mask to maintain a stoic face, and with a simple nod he continued on.

_Even knowing who I am… Even with the reputation I hold… Tradition, eh?_ It was mildly comforting to know that there were still barriers he had yet to surpass.

Sarutobi was waiting for him outside his office, leaning on a red-painted balcony. Red was everywhere, plastered on the walls, banners and streamers hanging from the ceiling, the large exit leading to the balcony was shaped in the Kanji for fire, carved out of redwood – the colour of the Hokage, though the man preferred creamy-beige coloured clothing. His hat hung on a peg, silken veil fluttering softly in the breeze, and with pipe in hand, the most powerful man in the world simply stood and admired the view of his village at night.

Without turning, he gave a brief nod of greeting at the silent approach of Itachi, to demonstrate that his legendary shinobi skills had not completely deserted him with age.

"Itachi-san, it is good to see you. I trust your mission was not too strenuous?" He took a breath in of his pipe, glowing embers lighting his wrinkled, paper-creased face.

"We were capable of performing adequately, Hokage-sama." They had almost been caught out three times, despite his careful planning. The first time, the Inuzuka and Shisui got drunk and almost revealed their true identities to an attractive young Kumo kunoichi. Itachi had killed her and deposited her body in the sewers, to ensure that their mistake did not cost them their lives.

The second time, Yuugao was recognised by a proctor of the exam where she had graduated to Chuunin rank. The aging, agreeable man went with them to discuss better times, and Yuugao had been in a state of depression for the rest of the mission, though she did not cry as she ended his life with the cold steel of her Katana.

The third time, Itachi himself had been the cause of things – someone had seen him leave with the kunoichi he had killed, and a half-dozen Jounin saw fit to try to avenge her death. The ensuing mêlée almost cost his group their lives, particularly when the Jinchuuriki had gotten involved. Their exit from Kumo was by no means glorious, but they had all survived, which was more than could be said for close to ten shinobi formerly of Kumogakure no Sato.

"Adequately." The Hokage smiled, and blew a smoke ring into the night sky. "I have been told that there are those that have sworn vengeance on you, Itachi. One of the shinobi your team killed was the son of the Raikage, another the sister of their resident Jinchuuriki. It would be best, I think, for Cell 13 to remain within our borders for the time being."

"As you wish." There was more to this – the Hokage would not have summoned him to tell him what he already knew. Him beginning their conversation with this showed that he did not wish to get to the heart of the matter right away, though whether that was through reluctance or otherwise, he could not tell. There were those gave nothing away with their faces: he was one, and there were many in the Hyuuga and Aburame clans, but the Hokage seemed also to be a master of that – his kindly, generous face was just as impenetrable as the stoic glare of a Hyuuga or the barely visible face of an Aburame, and proved invulnerable to his scrutiny. The Hokage paused a moment, then spoke again, and his voice carried not a single waver.

"Itachi… take a look at Konoha, tell me what you see." The ANBU captain took a few steps forward, and looked over the village bathed in darkness, with only a few lights flickering in windowsills. There were large apartment blocks, and small, single-story houses. The Uchiha Compound and Hyuuga Mansion stood at opposite ends of the village, adequately showing the feud between the two clans, and sprawled out between them were the richer establishments, the homes of the wealthiest traders, at the top of a hill.

Below them were the other, lesser clans. The large, unruly Inuzuka tenements, from which faint barking could still be heard; the neat, orderly Aburame residences every house the same size, the same shape, fixed together like a floor made up of honeycombs; the single large area that contained the Yamanaka, Nara and Akimichi households, to show the intricate relationship between those three clans. Spaced in between the Clan territory were the homes of the "middle-class" of Konoha, the lesser merchants, the average shinobi. The marketplaces, the curiosity shops, the dead-centre. The Academy stood clear in the centre of all this, to show that every family, no matter how rich or how poor, came together to learn the arts of Ninjutsu.

Below even those, the massive sprawl of apartments, small businesses and slum houses took up over a third of Konoha, providing the bulk of its non-shinobi residents, and the poorest, most unfortunate shinobi who were of a talent to barely make subsistence level, let alone aim for higher things.

"I see inequality." The first thought that came to his head, and he was aware of the Hokage watching him intently. "I see the rich staying rich, the clans hoarding their secrets to maintain their status. I see stagnation, the stifling of new talents so that the old may strut and boast of better days." That was all the Uchiha did, at any rate. One could not set foot anywhere in the compound without hearing of the exploits of one Uchiha or another from times long past. "I see…"

"Then look up." The Hokage put one gnarled, monkey-like hand on his shoulder, and pointed upwards, past the grandeur of the Hyuuga and Uchiha, to the vast sheet of rock that acted as a natural defence. Carved into that rock were four heads, grim, ever-living faces. The four Hokages, from the founder of Konoha to its greatest ninja ever – from the Shodai to the Yellow Flash, and everything in between. The entire history of Konoha, kept tucked safe in four names. Itachi looked, and he understood. To live forever… it was so simple! All this time he searched for the complicated solution, when the answer had always lain right in front of him.

"Hokage-sama. You plan on retiring at the Chuunin Exams." He thought is had just been a rumour, but now… "I wish to submit my name as a candidate to become the Godaime Hokage." Sarutobi's eyes twinkled, and he still had his patriarchal smile.

"Now, Itachi… It is true that the Hokage is the strongest ninja in the village, yes, but strength alone does not make a Hokage… You need to prove that you can lead, not just fight."

"I am a captain of the ANBU, Hokage-sama. I have led Cell 13 for four years."

"Yes, you have. The Hokage sighed, and trudged back indoors, taking his hat from its peg. With the hat on, he seemed younger somehow, taller, with a straighter back. When he turned next to Itachi, the smile was gone. "You have shown, Itachi, that you can give orders, and expect them to be obeyed. That is not all that constitutes leadership. I have a… mission of sorts, for you, to test your leadership abilities.

The Uchiha remained silent, though his fingers itched at the thought of his newly-discovered prize being kept away from him. _Immortality… any price._

"Tell me," he said, and without a wink of hesitation, Sarutobi took a folder from his desk and held it out for Itachi to take. _He planned this all along, knowing that I would do as I wished._ The knowledge that _he_ had been manipulated soured his mood slightly, but he put the slight aside when he considered the rewards he would receive. Unclipping the folder and removing its contents, Itachi read in silence for a few moments.

"A Genin team," he said eventually. "You wish me to lead a Genin team."

"That is correct. Your… unusual method of promotion has meant that you have yet to lead a team, though every Hokage past has, and… one who sought to become Hokage failed to do." Both knew exactly who he meant – the current greatest enemy of Konoha. "It will be a test, both of your ability to teach, and your ability to lead. The Hokage must be capable of guiding every shinobi in the village. These three children… I am sure you will find them ample practice." Itachi simply nodded, eyes travelling down to the three photographs supplied. Two of them were familiar to him, one was not. It was slightly sobering to realise that he would be monitored by the Hokage just as much as he would monitor these children, in case he sought to emulate Sarutobi's favoured student. One had to admire the old man's attention to duty, after his brief lapse.

"I refuse. I have no intention of wasting my time looking after children." The Hokage tsked, and when he replied, his voice was hard and stone, carrying the weight of his many years.

"Uchiha Itachi, you are the foremost Genjutsu specialist of the village. You _must_ pass your skills on to the next generation – that is the central belief of Konoha. In any case, how better to show you are Hokage than to create a team of legends?" His words had truth, Itachi was forced to admit – there was only a single person that contested Sarutobi becoming the Sandaime Hokage after Nidaime's death – as he had shown by training the Densetsu no Sannin, there was nobody else better suited to leading and teaching an entire village. The man who would become Yondaime, Namikaze Minato, had taught Hatake Kakashi, the man who had been Itachi's most hated enemy and most admired comrade in equal measure. To create a team _greater_ than either of theirs… was yet another challenge he would seek to complete.

"When do I begin?" he relented at last, and the Hokage gave a faint smile at that.

"In three days time, when the youngest one graduates from the Academy. You are welcome to watch them until then, though I am sure I do not need to tell you not to let them see you."

The youngest one… he was of an age with Sasuke, though he was everything his little brother was not. Bright blonde hair in place of raven-black; clear blue eyes instead of onyx; and he had a smile worthy of Shisui in place of Sasuke's usual scowl.

"Are you certain with him?" He seemed too similar to Shisui, or the Inuzuka, too happy-go-lucky, too carefree. That was a recipe for death, Itachi had seen far too many times.

"Trust me, Itachi. Uzumaki Naruto… he's special. The other two are, as well, to be sure, but Naruto-kun will be the most surprising of them all. There is… more information within the folder, but be warned that you are not to repeat it. That is _my_ law." Itachi nodded, and briefly wondered what secret Naruto held that required the law of the Hokage to protect. Then he glanced at the other two names: beneath the photo of a white-haired, bespectacled child was "Yakushi Kabuto". Itachi had worked in the past with a "Yakushi Yoshifume", and his son, though he had been adopted, looked very similar to him. He was the same age as Itachi, though still a Genin. Perhaps he was the weak link. He opened his mouth to say as much, when Sarutobi predicted him again.

"Kabuto-kun… I'd like you to keep an eye on him. He is hiding much of his strength – his prior sensei confided in me that Kabuto threw his match in the Chuunin Exams last year, and I believe him. Kabuto is stronger than he would have us believe."

"He is a spy?"

"Perhaps, though for whom I am not sure. He was found in the aftermath of a battle with Kiri, so it is possible he was planted by them. Keep an eye on him, nevertheless."

The third child, the unknown one to him, was a girl, though he recognised her name readily enough.

"I was under the impression, Hokage-sama, that the Kurama clan was no longer a part of Konoha."

"They are not, that is true, but this girl is no longer of the Kurama clan. Her name is Yakumo, and she is currently on her way to Konoha. She will be, I think you'll find, the easiest of the group – she too is a Genjutsu type ninja. Though, perhaps… it would be best to ensure she does not meet with Yuuhi Kurenai. The two have a… not entirely friendly history."

"I will keep that in mind, Hokage-sama," Itachi said and turned to leave, with three new faces in his mind. The following years promised to be… interesting, at least.

--

_Psh_, three days to go. Three days to go until he could get out of the Academy, and become a real ninja at last. _About damn time,_ Naruto thought, as he looked out of a window of Konoha Academy. Iruka-sensei was going on about the Nidaime, and his funeral, and _seriously_, how could people expect him to be interested in that? Things had been cool for the past week, where they practised Henges – Naruto still had fond memories of making Iruka-sensei black out after witnessing his Oiroke no Jutsu. _Best damn technique _ever!

It was just a shame his other techniques weren't that great – Kawarimi was alright, but it was so _boring_ – what ninja ran away, eh? Ninja were supposed to keep going, keep on fighting, until they won. Just like Yondaime – where would Konoha be if its Hokage had run away instead of fighting the Kyuubi to the end? _I want to be _just_ like Yondaime_._ I'll show 'em – Uzumaki Naruto, Godaime Hokage_. It had a nice ring to it.

"Naruto! Pay attention!" Iruka clapped his textbook shut next to Naruto's head, making him jump, and he scowled as most of the class laughed at him. It didn't bother him, not really – people had been laughing at him since the first day he'd been here, but that didn't stop him – ninja didn't give up; just like he didn't give up trying to go on a date with Sakura-chan… when he could be bothered. Iruka turned away from him to write something on his blackboard, and Naruto decided he'd had enough. As the Chuunin droned on about how old-man Sarutobi had to beat back Iwa almost single-handedly, he frog-leapt out of a window. There was an indignant squeal from the Yamanaka princess at Naruto's exit, and soon enough, Iruka's shouting started, but Naruto was already gone. _Heh… too easy…_ He thought, and then he felt _it,_ and stopped dead in his tracks. _What on earth was _that He looked around, and a crow flapped from its perch and flew towards the sun, and a wind strong enough to make Naruto cover his face with his goggles. Strangely enough, the bird did not seem to be affected at all. _Tsk, so that was it – just some damn bird…_ He gave it the finger to show it what he thought of stupid black birds flapping about, and then continued on his way. If he'd stopped to think about it, he might have wondered why a bird was flying against the wind, and if he'd looked closely, he'd have seen that it was shedding feathers that turned into air.

Instead, he leapt onto a building, or tried to, when he felt _it_ again, and landed awkwardly face first on the tiles.

"Argh… Damnit! What the hell was that!" He gritted his teeth, and continued, completely unaware of the red-and-black eyes that watched him. How interesting… He had _sensed_ the Genjutsu, when it was placed upon him, and released. Hokage-sama spoke truly – there was something more to Uzumaki Naruto that met the eye.

"What an… interesting little fox," Itachi said more to himself than anyone else, and held out his hand for the raven to perch on his wrist. "Follow him," he said, and the raven flew after the blonde blur, as Itachi made his way to the _second_ of his students. He had expected nothing less from the container of the Kyuubi no Kitsune, after all. Considering the demon's history with his clan… perhaps there was even _more_ to expect from Uzumaki Naruto.

--

The bar was middle-of-the-way, more poor than rich, with mostly respectable patrons. The food was adequate, the drinks slightly less so, but that didn't bother Yakushi Kabuto much. It was all about keeping up appearances. If he had lunch every day in one of the higher establishments, people would whisper about him: where did he get the money? Conversely, if he were to spend his days in the slums, people would wonder about him – and more importantly, the company he kept. No, this was the best solution. The food here was more than enough to be supported by a Genin's average wage, and nobody could question _why_ a Genin chose to ate in a place such as this, especially not a Genin who, all could agree, was as nice, quiet and polite as Yakushi Kabuto had spent long years making himself out to be.

He sat at the corner table, though not actually _in_ the corner. If he were visibly seen watching the entrance, he would raise suspicions. He chewed on a stick of Dango, quietly, eyes closed, and knew that others around him would notice him only due to his projection of himself as a calm, unthreatening, _content_ man. His slightly generous tip to the mildly attractive waitress who had served him his meal would only serve to reinforce the perception people had of him as the friendly, polite, _harmless_ Genin. That was all it took – a few small prices, and the reward of being free of all suspicion. That was an art most spies forsook, but Yakushi Kabuto knew well the merits of making himself seem weaker than he truly was – but then again, he'd had almost a decade to practice it.

The bell on the door rang as someone opened it, and his eyes opened with practised slowness, travelling down to the table where his Hitai-ate lay propped against a salt-shaker. He had polished it well, and it shone almost like a mirror, showing clearly the silver-haired Chuunin that entered loudly, without him having to turn and draw attention to himself. It took only a single glance to confirm the man's identity. _Touzi Mizuki._ Well, he'd come at last. It was a good thing he had, or else he'd have had to order another plate of this lacklustre Dango, and probably another glass of their watery beer, just to keep up appearances.

Mizuki caught sight of him, and with a grin on his face, made his way over to where Kabuto sat, and for a brief moment Kabuto frowned; he did not trust Mizuki, not only in the way he mistrusted everyone, which he was almost forced to do due to his line of work, but also due to the informer's crude nature – he could, if he made the wrong move, easily end up getting both of them caught out. As Mizuki drew level with him, Kabuto began to turn, and the Chuunin slammed a paw down onto his plate, curling thick fingers around a stick of Dango. Conversation died at the sudden noise, and Kabuto fought to keep his alarmed expression on his face. _Careful, now, careful…_ Mizuki grinned, then brought the stick up to his mouth and took all the rice balls off in a single bite. Whilst chewing, he sneered.

"That one was on you, _Genin_. Trash like you should stick in the gutter, where you belong, and make room for us _Chuunin_. Got it?" Kabuto opened his mouth to protest, and Mizuki laughingly sat down in the corner.

"Oi! Woman! Get over here – my buddy's treating me to another plate of Dango and a bowl of Sake! 'Ain't that right, _Genin?_" _Crude as always… but there's some useful acting you've got there, Mizuki-kun._ Mizuki set his boots on the table, chewing loudly and twirling the empty stick between his fingers, and Kabuto hurriedly counted out the money needed and put it on the table, before standing and turning to leave. Mizuki flicked the stick at the back of his head, and Kabuto knew that the Chuunin was taking great enjoyment in the role he had been given – very few people would dare to publicly humiliate the right-hand man of Orochimaru-sama like this, even _with_ his permission. Still… _better they think me weak_. It was easy to produce crocodile tears as he left the bar, and he didn't miss the outraged look the waitress had on her face, outrage at the way he had been treated. For a brief moment, he considered taking advantage of that, but dismissed it. She was just a civilian, that was all. It wouldn't help him in any way to use her in that manner. He resolved never to eat here again.

He stepped around to the back of the bar, to where a pipe led to the entrance to the gutter, and wordlessly slipped on a latex glove, before reaching his arm inside. There was a scroll concealed within, wrapped in plastic, and Kabuto sighed as he retrieved the sole object that had been the cause of most of his plans today. He took a brief look through it to ensure that it was genuine before he stowed it away. It was unlikely that Orochimaru-sama would find anything of use in the list of Genin candidates, and he sensed that Mizuki-kun's usefulness was coming to an end. He had a girlfriend, Kabuto remembered, the one person he possibly cared for more than himself. That could be fun, making him watch him kill her… but that would have to wait.

He stowed the scroll away, and made his way to his apartment. He had made sure that both his team-mates, Yoroi and Misumi, were given accommodation far from him, to try and minimise the possibility that they were connected in anything other than their Genin team. Whilst Yoroi stayed over at the house of a merchant in the pay of Orochimaru, Misumi stayed in the slums next to the southern bend of the Nakano river.

Kabuto himself stayed in a relatively large apartment, courtesy of his "father". Yoshifume had paid for the suite, and had never bothered to say why. Kabuto could not for the life of him understand why his adoptive father was given to such shows of generosity for a child that had never considered itself his, but he was more than happy to accept the gifts, even as he used his father's medical records and connections at Konoha hospital to ferry information to Orochimaru-sama. The poor, deluded man… when Orochimaru-sama came to destroy Konoha, Kabuto knew he'd be the one who "accidentally" was sent to Konoha hospital, and a showdown with his father. Perhaps he'd even be merciful and kill him with a single blow to his already weak heart.

He had mail, as usual. A half-dozen ciphers passed on to him to decode and send to Oto, as was only fitting for the head of Orochimaru-sama's spy network in Konoha, and… that was strange… he looked at the red-bordered letter, written in the familiar script of the Hokage, and his eyes narrowed as he read its contents.

So… he was being removed from his team, to be placed on a new team. Had the Hokage finally suspected something? He'd probably been careless again during the Chuunin Exams, but they had a habit of bringing out his... risk-taking side. There was no name for his sensei, just a date and time for him to meet him, and a notice saying that his team-mates had been informed and would be receiving a third member soon enough. Well… that was mildly irritating. Yoroi and Misumi were little more than grunts. Everyone knew that he was the brains of the team, whilst they, even though they were physically more intimidating than him, were worth far less than he was. They too would have to be dealt with, in case they revealed Orochimaru-sama's secrets…

_My, my… it seems like a lot of people have been set to die today…_ He locked his door behind him, drew the curtains, and only then, when he was certain he was alone, began to laugh. Ah, things were moving right along… so, he had another team to get used to, eh? He traced the red bordering, felt, with the tip of his finger. It felt strange, near the bottom end, as if it cut off too suddenly… but most likely, it was just the Hokage's aid trying to save on expensive stationary. He knew the stationary outlet that used this felt, one that counted the Hokage himself amongst their patrons. Time to pay them a visit, then. If there was one thing, just one thing, that Kabuto hated, it was surprises. He left the scroll he had received from Mizuki in a place in the ceiling, where a lamp came undone, and then left to discover his team.

However, no sooner had he left his room than he had a terrible suspicion. He closed his eyes, pretended to clean his glasses, and _heard_ it. It was a common skill amongst Oto shinobi to have a sense of hearing far beyond that of ordinary shinobi, and Kabuto, one of Oto's finest, could hear _heartbeats_. His own, calm and measured; those of his civilian neighbours, lazy and petulant; and then _another_. An odd one, irregular, muffled. Kabuto replaced his glasses, and walked, and could tell that the irregular heart was following him.

By the time he arrived at the stationary stop, he had discovered other things. His follower favoured neither leg, and walked across rooftops. A shinobi, then, and one of talent. Most likely a Genjutsu specialist, to be hidden from plain view. _Well then, Shinobi-san, let's put on a show._ He purchased a pen with an ivory handle, and was admiring a notepad with lavish dragon decorations, when the explosion occurred behind him. On cue, he turned, terror on his face, but he smiled inside. What a predictable fool. He had gone for the scroll, as he knew he would. He'd obviously been following him since the bar. He hadn't expected him to place an exploding tag in the scroll, though, one that detonated the moment they opened the scroll to see its contents. Kabuto, with his photographic memory, could remember it word for word, and easily copy the details down later, but the man that thought to catch him in the act would not be able to confirm his suspicions to anyone. His smile turned into a frown when he failed to see a corpse fall from the smoke, and as it faded, his eyes widened momentarily. There were scorch marks on the tiles of the roof, but there was no corpse, no hint that there had been a human there.

Something fluttered behind him, and he turned, plucked it from the air. It had the same red felt as the letter, and bore the Hokage's signature, and Kabuto realised that it was the other half of his letter, a half he had missed. Reading it, and reading it again, a single name stood out – the name of his sensei, written in the Hokage's hand, but not by the Hokage. He rolled it up carefully, placed it in a pouch, and made sure not to laugh until he was back in his apartment. So… his new sensei… How _crafty_ he was…

"Well then… _Uchiha Itachi_…" He'd outplayed him this time, that was for certain, but it was no victory for the Uchiha Prodigy. _Better they think me weak. _This could work to his advantage – if his sensei were to underestimate him… Well, the higher they stood, the greater the fall._ Orochimaru-sama always wanted a Sharingan…_ and who better to take it from than the pride of the Uchiha? Now, he had to plan – this would be a dangerous mission, and he had, even just partially, confirmed the man's suspicion that he was a spy.

All other thoughts were set aside – Mizuki, his team-mates, his father… Kabuto pushed them aside, as he sat, and thought of how he would conspire to turn Itachi and Konoha against each other, and thus push him into the grasp of Orochimaru. He let a smile creep up on him – this would be difficult, yes, but he _needed_ something like this – taking messages from Chuunin; spying on the hospital… those tasks were beneath him, and now… now, he had a chance to put everything on the line, match his mind against the finest of Konoha… There were few moments where Yakushi Kabuto felt truly alive, but today… this was one of them, and he knew that things from here were only going to become _more_ interesting.

A/N:

So, Here's Chapter 1. Poor Naruto has no idea what's happening around him – but Itachi and Kabuto are going to have an intellectual clash of Death Note proportions. Don't worry, Naruto will definitely get his time to shine too, and is still probably **the** main character, but I just wanted to write some Itachi and Kabuto stuff. :P

Oh, and yes, Kurama Yakumo, that filler girl who paints Genjutsu is in this fanfic. I'm slightly re-vamping the history and powers of the Kurama clan to avoid her, well, being capable of taking on entire villages armed with a paintbrush. More on her next chapter.

Ah! I'd also like to advertise – if anyone is interested in becoming a Beta-Reader for this fanfic, feel free to contact me via PM or Review. If you are interested, please leave an E-Mail or a Livejournal account I can send Beta-Chapters to.

That's all for now, folks!


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